


Digging for Gold

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bonding, Multi, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: A series of Tumblr prompts, placed up here to keep them safe.  Early ones were written back in 2016, so expect early show oddness.





	1. Shiro and Hunk bonding

**Anonymous asks** :

Could we have some short team bonding drabbles for unexplored pairs? Like Keith and Allura, Pidge and Coran, Lance and Shiro, Hunk and Allura, etc...

I know it wasn’t one of your options, but Shiro and Hunk are one of the ones I see least, so…

**  
**“Hey, Shiro?” **  
**

Shiro paused, hand hovering over one of the floating screens.  “Afternoon, Hunk,” he replied, brows up.  “Did you need something?”

“Well, sorta,” Hunk replied, sitting down next to Shiro at the table.  He placed what looked like a bundle of fabric on the table and pushed it over.  “Remember when we wanted to measure you, the other day?”

Smiling blandly, Shiro nodded.  “Vividly.”  It had involved a small flying robot that he suspected had originally been one of the Rover 2.0 prototypes, a tape measure, and being tripped.  Several times.

Returning his look with a sheepish smile of his own, Hunk shrugged.  “It worked, and nobody had to do it and be awkward.  Robot’s don’t get embarrassed.”  But then he slid the cloth closer.  “But we were working on… well, there’s a lot of clothes on board that we don’t have a lot of use for, and Altean clothes aren’t usually designed with humans in mind.  But we have a ton of manufacturing capabilities, so we thought we could break some stuff we can’t use down and make the materials work for us.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Shiro replied.  “Do you need my help?”

Hunk shook his head.  “Nah, we got it all working pretty easily.  But, uh, we weren’t sure what to make, you know?  We wanted to test out how well it would work with our measurements.  We decided a body suit was the most efficient way, but that’s also kind of weird to run around in.  But we think we came up with a solution.”  He pushed the bundle closer to Shiro.  “This one’s yours.”

Something about his eager expression made Shiro pause.  But it was Hunk and Pidge, and while they did have a serious mischief streak, it was usually harmless.  So he took the fabric and held it up, curious.

At first, he could only see black fabric, which made Shiro think it was something color coded for their lions.  But as it unfolded, he could see the bright block of red at the shoulders, with a cut out at the bottom like a slanted triangle.

It only took a second for Shiro to figure out what he was looking at.  Then he clutched it to his chest in sheer automatic reaction.  “You made-”

“Star Fleet uniforms, yeah,” Hunk replied, nodding.  “We were gunna make you the gold uniform, but Coran still calls you ‘number one’ sometimes, so we thought it’d be funny to do this one.  If you want, we can make another, so long as this fits-”

“No!”  Shiro froze at his own outburst, but he continued to clutch the uniform to his chest.  “I like Riker,” he admitted.  He tried to fight off a blush at his own ridiculous reaction, but he was pretty sure he didn’t quite manage.  “I’m surprised you went for Next Gen.”

Hunk watched him for a moment, eyes wide, but then he beamed.  “They were the best uniforms for our test.  You want to try it on?  To make sure we got it right.”

Nodding slowly, Shiro stood.  “Alright.  I’ll be right back.”  He hurried to the nearest bathroom to change, then paused for a moment, glancing at the mirror.  The whole thing fit like a glove, and he was probably going to suggest they give about half an inch more give just for movement’s sake.  But it honestly fit better than the old shirt Keith had dug up for him.

Shiro did hesitate for a moment before stepping back out.  He wasn’t embarrassed of walking around in something tight fitting.  Even if his usual clothes didn’t fit that description, they all wandered around in their armor undersuits too often for Shiro to care.  As long as his skin was covered, it wasn’t a problem.

But Shiro didn’t usually wear his interests on his sleeve, especially so literally.  He’d never had the desire to go around wearing merchandise or go to cons.  It wasn’t in his nature.  But now he was running around in a custom tailored Star Trek cosplay.

But, what did it matter, anyway?  Who was going to see it?  Either members of who team, who already knew he was fond of the show, or the aliens who probably thought this was a more sensible dress anyway.

Actually, getting Allura one of the gold command uniforms would be nice, while they were at it…

Wandering back in, Shiro rolled his shoulders for Hunk’s benefit.  “I think you did your job a little too well.  Any more fitted and I’d be vacuum sealed.”  The tugging made the fabric catch on his arm, and he frowned.  “And maybe a shorter sleeve, here.”

Hunk chuckled.  “Oops.”  He grinned at Shiro, openly enjoying his slightly shy pleasure.  “We’ll remember your arm next time, sorry about that.  But there’s one more part to this.”

Brows up, Shiro glanced down, then glanced at Hunk.  “What?”

Beaming, Hunk reached into his pocket and pulled something out.  It was a communicator badge.

“Oh,” Shiro murmured, and he took it gently and pinned it to his uniform.  Then, on a whim, he tapped it.

It made the clicking noise.

Shiro gasped in sheer delight.

But before he could comment, it spoke.  “Hey,” Pidge called, and Shiro could hear very quiet typing.  “Cool, you got your gift?”

“It works?”

Hunk grinned back, resting his chin on his palm.  “Sure. It’s a bit redundant, since the helmets are better anyway, but it was a fun little project.  It seemed silly to make such perfect uniforms and then not have the working badges.”

“Implying the whole thing wasn’t silly,” Pidge replied dryly, though she didn’t sound upset.  The opposite, really.  “The fit’s good?”

Shiro cleared his throat.  “A little tight,” he admitted.  “But well done.”

“Awesome,” Pidge replied.  “But I’m kind of in the middle of something, sorry.  You like it?”

Smiling, Shiro nodded absently.  “Yes, very much.  But go ahead and go, sorry to bother you.”

“No problem.  Over and out.”

For a moment, Shiro stood there.  Then he covered his mouth to hide the beaming smile.  “It made the noise.”

Hunk laughed.  “Yeah.  That was the hardest part, since we didn’t exactly have a recording of it.  I’m glad you appreciate it.”

Taking off the badge, Shiro flipped it over in his hand.  “Will you show me how you did it?”

Hunk paused.  “You want to?”

“Sure.  I know I’m not the kind of tech genius you two are, but I do know a little bit.  And I don’t think having extra communicators around is a bad idea, just in case.  Seems like they have their own batteries, so if the castle goes down we’re not totally reliant on the helmets.”  Then Shiro paused and smiled.  “And I just really like them.”

Nodding slowly, Hunk smiled back, color to his cheeks from the casual compliment.  “Sure, I’d be happy to.  Now?”

Shiro glanced back at the work he’d been doing, then nodded.  “If you don’t mind.  I was just reviewing some old data.  You’d be doing me a favor.”

“That works for me.  I was going to make some more anyway.  Having a hand would be great.”  Hunk stood.  “I’m glad you like it.  We weren’t sure which versions you like.”

Shiro shrugged.  “I like most of them.  But I do like Next Gen best.  Picard is my favorite captain.  I was never very invested in Kirk.”

Head tilted, Hunk looked him over.  “That might explain some things.”  Before Shiro could do more than glance over, Hunk nodded.  “Alright, everything’s in the lab.  And we can make sure Pidge isn’t building something dangerous while we’re there.”

“So you can help?” Shiro muttered dryly.

Resting a hand on his chest, Hunk gasped.  “I would never.”  At Shiro’s stare, he beamed.  “C’mon, I’ll change into my uniform too and we’ll make a party out of it.  Too bad we don’t have episodes.”

“When we get back to Earth, we’ll watch some,” Shiro promised, voice soft.

Hunk paused, then nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, we will.”  Then he laughed, if quieter than before.  “We’re going to spend days just watching TV when we get back.”

That was fine with Shiro, because it meant they were going to spend plenty of time together, even once they returned.  And that was what he really cared about. 


	2. Pidge and Shiro make a plan, and Allura is confused by humanity in general

“No,” Pidge said, smacking Shiro’s arm gently.  “I’ve got it this time.  This is brilliant. We can definitely still do it.”

Shiro hummed non-noncommittally, then suddenly tensed up, choking on a suppressed sneeze.  “Alright, let’s see.”  His voice was rough, and from the hang of his head, he was definitely feeling the cold more than he wanted to admit.  
  
Bending over her notepad, Pidge started to draw industriously, one arm up to block Shiro’s line of sight.  He craned around, indulging the joke and trying to see, and she twisted to combat him each time.  Lips curled up, he met Allura’s eyes and shared a smile with her.

  
“I’ll be very impressed if you manage a solution for forming Voltron without the Black Paladin,” she said, hands folded diplomatically in front of her.  “Considering it was made to be impossible.”  
  
“No one else is me,” Pidge replied immediately, straightening with playful pride. “And this is a purely Earth solution.  No one from another planet could have thought of it.”  
  
Ducking his head down, Shiro fought another sneeze.  Meeting Allura’s eyes his own bright with challenge, he smirked.  “I believe in you, Pidge.  If anyone can make this work, you can.  Though, really I’m fi-”  This time, the sneeze caught him unawares, and his whole body shook from it.  
  
“You are not getting into a cockpit until your sinuses clear,” Allura told him, voice sharp.  Clearly, she was sick of telling him this.  “Unless you want to rupture something.”  Then, when Pidge wasn’t looking, she scowled and pointed at him.  ‘Don’t you make me the bad guy,’ she mouthed.

Shiro just waggled his brows back.  “I’ve flown in worse.”

“That’s not reassuring, Shiro.”  
  
Pidge held up her notepad.  “There, perfect.”  Then she twisted, showing it to Shiro.  “We’ll need a giant pumpkin.  A giant space pumpkin.  One that can survive in a vacuum.  But it’ll work.”  
  
For a moment, Shiro stared.  Then he cracked up, curling in on himself with laughter.  “Oh, of course.  How did we not see it?”  
  
Ears perking, Allura stepped over to look, peering over Pidge’s head.  The body of Voltron was formed, but rather than the black lion has the head, there was a round, orange shape with the word ‘pumpkin’ and an arrow pointing to it.  For some reason, Voltron was also wearing some kind of ripped cape with a high collar.  
  
Frankly, Allura had no idea why it was funny.  
  
“What does the pumpkin do?” She asked, brow furrowed.  The question made Shiro chuckle harder, and he wobbled dangerously, nearly falling off the couch.  
  
Pidge stared up at her, expression deadly serious. When she spoke, her voice was pitched low, like telling a scary story.  “It hides the headlessness.  We’ll go on the search for a new head on the way.  Once we build a giant robot horse to ride.”  
  
“I can’t breath.  _Ow_.”  Shiro covered his face, though it did nothing to hide his grin.  “Stop,  _stop_.”  
  
“And what is the function of the clothing?”  
  
“ _Stop!”_  
  
Pidge shrugged, glancing back at Shiro and smiling.  “Aesthetic.”

Sighing, Allura shook her head.  Her confusion was only increased when the other paladins entered, summoned by the commotion, and either found it amusing or started to groan in response.

But, it lifted spirits, that was certain.  Shiro’s cold, mild as it was, had put stress on all of them, and she was glad to see them back to their usual chaos.

Well, relatively glad.

As Lance pulled his shirt over his head and started to chase Pidge around the room, Allura just sighed.

Humans were crazy.  But at least they were on their side.


	3. Pokemon AU

**Anonymous asks** :

Pokémon AU

“You know,” Lance mused as he stared out at their near-army of Pokemon.  “I really never would have pegged your Pokemon as, well, yours, Shiro.”

Picking his head up, Shiro glanced at the nearest of his group.  Frufru nudges his shoulder, demanding some of his human food rather than the specifically bought - and not inexpensive - Pokemon chow.  He held it away, but she continued to snuffle forward, eyes big.  Most of the rest of his - Gallade, Whimsicott, Altaria, and Skarmory - were huddled in a group, looking like they’re chatting.

“Okay, I’ll bite.  Why?”

Lance paused, thinking about it.  “I mean… it’s just random, is all.”

“You mean that they’re fluffy Pokemon?” Pidge drawled.  Her Flygon was settled against her back, dwarfing her farther.  “Don’t give me that crap, Lance.”

Scowling, he shook his head.  “No!  That’s not what I meant.  There’s just no  _order.”_ Lance scooped up his Smoochum and scowled.  “I don’t give a damn how cute his Pokemon are.  It’s not that.”

Hunk picked his head up.  “You mean types, right?”  Snapping excitedly, Lance pointed to Hunk.  “Usually gym leaders have a theme.  It hasn’t been long since you had one, so it seems odd.”

Watching them in amusement, Shiro shook his head.  “Not necessarily true.  There’s a gym leader in Kanto that doesn’t.  And I do have a theme.”

“Okay, that’s one in, like, sixty-four,” Lance shot back.  “But I’ll bite.  What’s the theme, then?”

Keith snorted loudly.  “It’s obvious.  It’s his  _name.”_

Shiro shook his head.  “No, most people don’t figure it out.  It’s not obvious, and Lance is right that it’s unusual.”  Finally meeting the interested gazes, Shiro shrugged.  “I gave out the Alba Badge.  Does that help?”

“Oh!” Pidge murmured, glancing back over.  “That’s…”

“They’re all white,” Keith muttered.  “How can anyone not figure that out?”

Lance frowned.  “Ohh.  That’s odd, but kinda cool.  I dunno of Skarmory counts as white, but close enough.  What about the other one.”

Following Lance’s gaze toward the edge of the field, Shiro spotted his Alolan Marowak.  She was staring out into the dark, eyes faintly glowing and watchful for anyone coming.

“An exception,” Shiro replied.  “And we have a lot in common.”


	4. The team wants matching tattoos

**Anonymous asks** :

For a fluffy prompt, that could very well be some kind of bonding experience, what about the team getting tattoos and/or piercings?

This is not the prompt you asked for but it’s the answer in my head:

 

“No.”

All four of the paladins turned to look at Shiro, brows up.

Pidge eyed him in frank disapproval.  “Never pegged you for the type, Shiro.”

Brows up, Shiro tilted his head.  “What type?”

But Lance just nodded, arms crossed.  “This is getting us back for the Dad teasing, right?  Because  _lame.”_

“It would be pretty cool,” Hunk offered.  “I like the idea of matching.  We could even get them on the right limbs.  And they’re small, it won’t hurt much.”

Head tilted, Keith frowned at Shiro.  “You never had a problem with tattoos before.  What gives?  What about your…”  He trailed off.

Shiro stared at them all.  Then he scrubbed over his face.  “Are you-?  Someone tell me how you get a tattoo.”

“They use a-” Pidge paused.  “Oh.”

“And what are the health standards for this area?” Shiro continued, tone flat.  “What’s the reputation of this vendor?  Are they known for their quality work?  What diseases are commonly blood-borne for these aliens?”

Lance waved his hands, now pouting.  “Alright, we get it!  It was just an idea.”  But his expression went sly.  “But if we knew those answers?”

One brow up, Shiro shrugged.  “You’re old enough to make your own choices about what you want on your bodies.  But I’m not going to let you make a stupid decision and get sick.”

Pidge glanced at Keith.  “Shiro’s what?”

“His piercing.”

Three sets of wide eyes stared at Shiro.  “Really?” Hunk asked.

Lance’s brows waggled.  “Where?”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro tapped his right ear.  “I was 16.  It’s closed up by now.  I took it out when I started at the Garrison.  And I shouldn’t have gone any place that let me get a piercing without ID.  So now I’m passing on the experience to you.”

“Fine, fine.”  Then Lance paused.  “Which ear is the gay ear again?”

_“Lance.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally predicting Shiro's coming out in the dumbest way possible in 2016


	5. The team goes with Shiro to get his things in storage on Earth

**Anonymous asks** :

imagine: after several years in space, the paladins finally make it home to earth. shiro goes to his dorm (apartment?) and runs his hands over everything. he tries to change clothes and his shirt just RIPS when he moves his arms because of how fucking swole he's gotten since he left

Well I imagine his dorm/apartment still isn’t around since it wasn’t a place he owned.  The GG/Landlord would have taken it over for housing someone else.

However, Shiro probably did put down for storage!  Because getting people involved in holding his stuff is a pain and he’s not paying at least half a year’s worth of rent went he doesn’t need a place to sleep.  And just in case, due to the quarantine and yadda yadda, what if what if, he puts down for a few years.

(Matt: Why??

Shiro: I’m not sure I’ll remember right away when I get back, and that way they won’t auction my stuff off.  That way it’ll be fine.

Matt: Dude.)

But then it’s an ADVENTURE.  Shiro’s gunna go get his stuff from storage!  What’s in there?  Is it embarrassing?  Shiro, we wanna help you go through your stuff and take stuff back to the castle.  Shiro, we’re coming with you.  

Shiro has learned to pick his battles.  This is not one.

And the trip is, for the most part, disappointing.  His old future-CDs are cool, at least?  (Lance: Is this actually vinyl?   Shiro: A reproduction but yeah it sounds better.    (No, no it doesn’t))  But then he does find old clothes.  Not the ONE outfit Keith happened to keep.  Including the ratty old ‘Starfleet Academy’ t-shirt he wore under his uniform for luck to just about all his exams.  Not that anyone has to know about that.

So, yes, by now Shiro is calm enough around them to take off his shirt and put on the different one, excited to have it back.

And yes, it bursts at the arms.

At first, everyone  _launches_  into teasing because holy shit dude, they can’t not.  (Hunk: It couldn’t handle you, dude.   Pidge: Years of academy training, wasted!)  Except then they see Shiro’s just like, staring down in horror.  It was his  _favorite shirt._   No, he never wore it publicly, but it was his  _favorite_.

Long story short, that’s how the Pals end up dragging Shiro to a mall and getting him clothes that fit, and in the process turned him into their living mannequin for a while.  Inevitably, it turned into a fight when Keith got tried to wander off and Lance gave him shit for it.

Longer story short, that is why they are no longer welcome at the Future-Macy’s at the mall.


	6. Shiro is the king of Chubby Bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one might exist somewhere already but ah well, I'll delete it later if so

**Anonymous asks** :

headcanon - shiro is the king at chubby bunny

First of all, I want to thank you for making me feeling fucking old.  I had to google that, and is that what the kids are doing these days???  With your cinnamon challenges and your fleeks.  I still don’t know what the fuck fleek is supposed to mean.  Back in my day we called it on point, and we liked it!!

Ahem.

But yes.  This has to do with two factors.  

1) Shiro is a larger guy with a larger head, and therefore has slightly more space in his mouth.

2) Shiro is  _unreasonably competitive_ at literally the stupidest things

At first, he doesn’t participate, content to use the marshmallows for their greatest possible purpose (hot chocolate, and no, s’mores are not better, Pidge, he will  _fight you on this)._   Instead, he’s content to watch while Lance fits three in his mouth at once, then tries to peck Pidge on the cheek while she tries to swat him away and threatens to get her bayard.

Eventually, inevitably, Lance starts to brag and jab.  And as always, Keith is too easily riled, and eventually he shoves five in his mouth at once and almost immediately starts to gag.  Which prompts Lance to go into a victory dance, crooning his victory around his six marshmallows.

And Pidge can never stand to see someone else smug for long without having to poke it with a stick, so she goes next, and manages to match Lance’s six.  But on the seventh it all comes coughing out in a gross, sugarly sludge, while Lance adds his and takes another smug lap.

They all look at Hunk, who looked back at them, eyes wide.

“No way,” Hunk said.  “That’s gross, dude.  Pure marshmallows taste disgusting.”

“All this time, I thought you were my friend,” Lance gasped back, once he’d spat out his mouthful to properly convey his anguish.

Hunk crinkled his nose.  “Seriously, no.  Marshmallows go on other stuff. Or in s’mores.  Not on their own.“

“What about Shiro?” Keith asked, brows up.  His expression was bland, but he met Shiro’s eyes dead on, smug challenge in them.

Lance snorted and flapped a hand.  “Please.  If Hunk can’t match me.  No one can.  Especially not Shiro.  I don’t think his jaw moves out of ‘I think I’m a movie star’.”

Eyes narrowed, Shiro reached for the bag and dragged it over.  Somewhere to his left, Keith started to snicker, but Shiro didn’t even look over.  Instead, he started to push in marshmallows, one at a time

He didn’t break eye contact with Lance once the entire time.  He barely blinked.

Shiro manged to get to ten before he flipped Lance off and put the remaining few marshmallows in his cocoa, effectively ending the contest.

Lance maintains that Shiro is a cheating cheater and that he would have won if he had the chance.

But for now, Shiro is the Chubby Bunny King.


	7. Deleted Scene of Beast You've Made of Me (number 1)

This first scene took place when Osaha was originally going to attack after the big council meeting, because I was damned and determined to get them to it, even though it was functionally useless (and I eventually, reluctantly, cut the whole thing).

Because of this, there was more time for character interaction in between Maros’ final offer and the rest of the plot, and Sam snuck in to fill that time.

And then he, in the span of about 700 words, completely undid all the effort I’d gone to getting Shiro emotionally ground down.

Sam Holt is powerful and must be stopped.

Here’s that scene:

 

“Takashi,” Sam murmured quietly.  “Hold back.”

Pausing, Shiro took a deep breath and turned, facing Sam.  “You needed something?”

It would have to be relatively quick.  The tech team was about to go get one more night of searches out, and this time Sam would be joining them, so they could continuing taking apart as many of the consoles as possible for downloading.  An extra pair of hands would be helpful for that.

“I just wanted to talk before we head out,” Sam replied.  “You’ve been quiet since speaking to Maros.  Were you shaken by the offer?”

Shiro snorted and eyed Sam, leaning against the wall.  He watched as the tech team packed up, collecting the supplies that inevitably migrated around the room.  “I’ve been quiet the past few days, it’s not new.”

That only made Sam sigh.  “Yes, well, it was more pronounced.  I don’t like you alone with him.  I know I don’t particularly have the right to tell you what choices to make, but I wish you would stop letting him talk you into those one-on-one conversations.”

There was so much in that Shiro looked at Sam again, brow furrowed.  “When you say ‘don’t have the right’, what do you mean?”

“I’m not your commanding officer anymore, and I’m not your therapist in any official sense,” Sam replied easy, hands tightening on his cane.  “As much as I try, I’m not.  And I obviously don’t have the authority over you that I do for Katie and Matt.  Though sometimes I forget that.”

Swallowing hard, Shiro met Sam’s eyes, just for a moment, then looked away.  “I forget too.”

Because Sam was fatherly.  Or maybe just familial.  Regardless, Shiro wasn’t particularly used to that.  And he appreciated it, when he thought about it.  Mostly, he tried not to.

The confession was worth the small smile it earned him, though.

“Yes, well, that’s not exactly the point,” Sam continued.  “I still can’t tell you not to go with Maros when he asks you to be alone with him.  I just wish I could.  It’s extremely frustrating to watch.”

Shiro straightened and leaned against the wall.  “It’s not like I have other choices.”

But Sam arched an eyebrow at him.  “Don’t you?  Why did you go with him to see Osaha?  I know you have no love lost for her.”

“I…” Shiro stepped closer to Sam, then dropped his voice, so no one else could hear.  “We talked about how the other paladins learn from me, right?  And how I was trying to be… better about what I showed them.  Than before.”

Sam watched him carefully.  “We also discussed how that was an acceptable mistake.”

Waving that off, Shiro shook his head.  “Well, yes, that’s true.  Fine.  But it also means I have to set the example for the behavior that is acceptable.  And that includes compassion and taking the peaceful option.”

“Ah,” Sam murmured.  “I think I understand your logic.  Especially considering you have empathy for her position.  But even so, I’m worried by the pattern.  Such as earlier today.  Why stay behind then?”

Shiro opened his mouth, then froze.

He hadn’t thought about it.  He just hadn’t told Maros no.  

“Did you know that it would hurt you?  Because it did, Takashi.”

Yes.  Yes it did.  It was hard to argue otherwise, when Shiro still felt like he was walking in a haze.

So finally he sighed.  “It seemed like it wasn’t a big deal,” he finally responded, tone almost sullen.

“You need to start thinking about these things,” Sam said.  “You have enough going on without running yourself into the ground as well.  I wish you wouldn’t pick the options that punish you the hardest.”

He sounded so tired.  Shiro was reminded, uncomfortably, that Sam was so much older than them.  That he was mortal.

It was something Shiro had been all too aware of, when Sam and Matt were still in captivity.  But since coming back, he’d fallen back into his admiration and almost forgotten.

The knowledge filled him with a restless, nervous energy, as if he was a small child again, foot bouncing restlessly as he stared out windows of a new place to live, a new country, that felt transitional and not quite real.  Like it was all a dream and he’d wake up back where he belonged, back where he spoke the language he was used to and came home to someone in the house.

Shiro found his shoulders and head curling in on themselves, suddenly as heavy as if they were filled with water.  “I’m sorry.”

Sighing, Sam reached up and cupped the back of Shiro’s neck.  Then he tugged him down the rest of the way, until his forehead was on Sam’s shoulder.  “Just promise me you’re not doing this because you feel you deserve it.”

“I don’t think I am,” Shiro replied, and he winced when his voice came out shaky.  “I just want them to learn the right things from me.  Not the-  Not the bad parts.”

Sam’s thumb rubbed along the muscle along the back of Shiro’s neck.  It was such a small, soothing gesture, and Shiro found his shoulders slowly, painfully unwinding.  “They do.  I know we use that a lot with you, but it gets you to listen, when it’s framed for them.  They’re alive and they’re happy.  Though they’ll be a lot happier when we’re out of here.  You do right by them, Takashi.  I promise.  Now it’s time to do right by you as well.  No more alone time with Maros, when you can.  I’m begging you.”

“Okay,” Shiro murmured back.  “Just… can you remind me?  That everyone’s nerves aren’t because of me.”

Huffing out what might have been a bark of laughter on a different day, Sam nodded.  “I can’t say it’s not because of you, but it’s not the reason you think.  We’re worried for you.  You, by your own design, have the hardest part to play in this.  And the strain is visible.”  He patted the back of Shiro’s head.  “Intrusive thoughts, dear boy.”

Right.  Shiro knew that, but it was still hard not to let it sink in.  “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.  I want to help, and this is how I can do that.  Perhaps try to imagine it’s someone else saying those thoughts?  You could use Monty, you never had a problem coming up with sharp remarks for him.”

That surprised a laugh out of Shiro.  “Never to his face!  Iverson would have had me cleaning every bathroom in the Garrison.”  When he pulled out, his eyes prickled dangerously, but he did feel like he could breathe again. 


	8. EXPLICIT: Matt wants Shiro to wear a Mountie uniform

Sssoo....if Matt pestered enough, do you think Shiro would dress up as a mountie/royal Canadian Mounted police for him? Red uniform, hat and all?

Okay, I have to stop and tell you that I absolutely cackled at this one, so thank you for this.

“You’re not serious,” Shiro decided, frowning down at Matt.

Matt stared back up, expression bland.  “Says you.  C’mon, at least the hat.  And the boots.  And the- no, no, it’s gotta be all of it.  Let’s go, Sweet Cheeks, strip down.”

Glancing down at the neatly folded uniform that Matt was trying to shove in his hands, Shiro took it like it might try and bite him.  “Look, I don’t know what started this, but you really can’t find this hot.”

“It’s a man in uniform,” Matt pointed out cheerfully.  “And on horseback?  Dashing.”

Shiro scoffed.  “You’ve seen me in uniform!  Every damn day for years.”

Moving in close, Matt reached up and tugged Shiro into a kiss.  He hesitated, still looking suspicious, but then he melted into Matt’s touch and returned the kiss.  “Not the same, Sugar Lips.  Seriously, do this one little thing for me?  Just this one little one?  I’ll stop bugging you to try ketchup chips.  Even though you’ll like them.  You put ketchup on everything else.”

“I do not,” Shiro replied, indignantly as he could make the lie.  But then he considered.  “And poutine.”

“Fuck no, you’re trying poutine.  Poutine is delicious and a heart attack waiting to happen.”

Shiro snorted.  “There’s an advertisement.”

That only made Matt roll his eyes.  “I’ve seen your diet, like you care.  Please, Shiro?  For me?  I really do want it.”  He kissed him again.  “You don’t even have to keep it on for long.  Just for a couple of pictures, then you can take it off.”

“Where did you even get this?” Shiro muttered, without any real hope of an answer.  Then he sighed. “Alright.  But I’m serious about the chips.”

Matt ran his finger over his chest.  “Cross my heart.  Now, time’s a wasting.  And I Maintain the Right to grope your ass.”

Shiro shot him a bland look, aware there was something odd in the sentence but not able to pinpoint exactly what.  Still, he obediently pulled off his shirt and reached for the uniform.

“You know, I can’t be sure, but I’m  _pretty_ sure you’re supposed to wear the uniform like a kilt.   _Au Naturel.”_

Shiro dropped the pants.  “Nope.  Done.  Not worth it.”


	9. Shiro's S2 disappearance/death leaves a body

**Anonymous asks** :

So here is an unpleasant theory that I’ve basically been ignoring since it occurred to me (I don’t think the show will actually go here), but what you/others have been saying about the paladins as batteries reminded me…re: Shiro’s disappearance, what if the Black Lion basically ate him? So much energy behind that final blow (on already low reserves), and all of Shiro’s quintessence/everything poured into it -> no more Shiro. (Not that I really want to entertain this notion.)

Weeeeell, I can’t say I’d want this to be canon (or expect it).

If it were, I’d think that just because the quintessence is drained doesn’t mean there’s no body?  After all, when the Pals were nearly drained by Haggar’s Planet Sucker Awfulness, their physical forms weren’t affected.  They were just weakened and unconscious.

So, drawing from that, Shiro wouldn’t be completely gone.  The armor would still be there, his body would still be there.  Just not  _Shiro._

Imagine, if you will, the same ending.  Keith sprinting down the halls, yelling Shiro’s name.  Scrambling up to the Black Lion, the others on their heels, a heavy, dark feeling blooming as suspicions grew.  The longer Shiro doesn’t respond, the worse the weight of it.

The lion lets them enter, and they see Shiro’s form slumped back in his chair.  Unconscious, no doubt.  Knocked out by whatever Zarkon had hit him with in those last moments, or drained from the effort of using the bayard.

Except when Keith goes to touch, there’s no movement, no reaction.  He calls Shiro’s name, and there’s no twitch, no stirring.

It’s Hunk who gently pulls Keith away, and Lance who presses two  fingers to Shiro’s neck, then goes pale, eyes wet.  Pidge who breaks first, calling Shiro’s name without any hope of him waking up.

The idea is so foreign, so absurd, that it isn’t until Allura starts to try and usher them out that it hits Keith what this all means.

He bursts forward, dodging past her spread arms, and yanks off Shiro’s helmet.  Screams at him to wake up, this isn’t  _funny_ , your stupid dark jokes were never funny, this is too far, Shiro.

Keith is still yelling when Hunk grabs him again, telling them to  _stop it,_  this is such a stupid joke, why are you all acting like this?

_If I don’t make it out of this alive…_

No.  No no no.  It was a delusion, he’d been in pain.  It was wrong, Shiro had been fine.  He was fine.

_…I want you to lead Voltron._


	10. Rated M: Shatt.  Shiro goes to Sam with concerns about his low interest levels

**Anonymous asks** :

prompt for u: Shiro having a really low libido due to stress and anxiety, to the point of bordering on sex-repulsed. (Probably because at this point he still associates being touched with being hurt.) Him trying to explain this to/talk it out with Matt. Bonus for any hideous awkwardness of trying to ask Sam for some advice on this.

I skipped to the bonus.  Warning for discussion of theoretical sexual assault.

* * *

Sam frowned, tapping his pen against his notepad.  “If you want, you can speak to someone else about this.”

Cheeks flaming, Shiro scowled at the floor.  “And who do you suggest for that?”

For a moment, Sam paused.  “Coran?  No, I suppose there’s no good answer for this.  Have you talked about it with Matt?”

Shiro shrugged, still not meeting Sam’s eyes.  “Some.  When it comes up.  Or, doesn’t, I guess.”  He winced at his own joke, shoulders climbing.  “He says he gets it, but it’s… I  _want_  to.  I do.”

“What’s stopping you?” Sam asked.  “Specifically.  Is it a lack of interest?  Was that something that ever happened before being captured?”

Gripping at his hair, Shiro took a deep breath.  “No.  I liked it before.  And yeah.  There is.”  The silence hung, probably meant to be non-judgmental, but Shiro could still feel the weight of it hanging over him.  “I just… I hadn’t even thought about it.  Until Matt.  It didn’t come up.  And then kissing is fine, or hugging or whatever else, but anytime it gets farther I think… what if.  You know?”

“What if you were abused in that way?”

Even without using the word, Shiro flinched hard.  

“Yeah.” Shiro finally replied, voice raspy.  “And then it’s all I can think about, and I try to shove it away but I just get tense and then everything kinda… stops.”

Sam sighed.  “I think this might be outside my pay grade.”

“Since none of us get paid?  Yeah, mine too.”  Shiro shrugged, his fingers tapping a nervous beat against his thigh.  “This is- I shouldn’t.  You shouldn’t have to.  I should-”

“Takashi.  Stop.”

Head hanging, Shiro nodded.  “Yeah.  I know.”

Standing up, Sam stepped over until he was kneeling in front of where Shiro sat.  He placed a gentle hand over Shiro’s nervous one, stilling the motion for the moment, until Shiro finally met his gaze.  “I’m going to remind you now that I’m no professional at this.  Everything I’m about to say you is pure theory and conjecture, so don’t take it as gospel.”

Shiro considered him, then nodded sheepishly.  He did have a tendency to do that with Sam.

“First of all, stressing yourself about this isn’t going to help.  That can negatively affect your drive without question.  The more you put pressure on yourself to perform, the harder you make it for yourself.  Has Matt ever tried to push you?”  He better not have, or else Sam was going to have to have a talk with his son.

Luckily, Shiro looked started at the idea.  “No!  No, never.  He usually stops first.  I keep… trying.  Sometimes.”  The look deflated, replaced again by nerves.  “I want to.  I want to  _enjoy_  it again like I used to.  I hate that it’s another thing they took from me, another maybe in my dreams where I don’t know if it’s a fear or a memory.  I should be able to!”

Sam let out a slow breath.  “I hesitate to try this, given your tendency to project, but let’s say that Matt was the one having issues and you were the one interested.  Would it bother you to stop?”

“No!”  Shiro shook his head.  “Of course not.  I’d rather him be-” He cut himself off, expression flattening.  “I see your point.”

The irritated tone only made Sam smile.  “I hope Matt is mature enough to see it the same way.  If he’s become the man I think he has, he is.  Let it happen if it will.  And if it did happen - and I hope it didn’t - but if it did… It won’t change who you are.  If you decide you never want to, then there’s no shame in that.  Even if you and Matt break up over it,  _there’s no shame._   No more than any time a couple breaks up for a difference in needs.  That’s okay for both of you.”

“But I don’t want it to have happened,” Shiro replied, voice so small and cracked.  Young.  Pained.  Sam desperately wanted to prevent it from having happened through sheer force of will.  “And I don’t want to break up.  I like what we do.  I like being with him.”

“Then let it be, for now.  Stressing yourself out and forcing you isn’t going to help the issue.  Do you think Matt would be happy if you tried to make yourself go through with something you were uncomfortable with?”

Shiro eyed him blandly.  “He already made himself plenty clear on that.  Said he’d key the Black Lion.”

Okay, if they ever broke up, Sam was going to keep a sharp eye on Matt to prevent him from getting smushed under a mechanical paw.

“That seems to be that, then.  Takashi, son, I wish I could say either way.  But for now, give yourself time.  You still need it.  Regardless of the specifics, you were violated for a very long time, in a very fundamental way.  A bodily way.  If you need to process that more, you’re allowed it.  There’s no rush.”  Sam squeezed Shiro’s knee again.  “This isn’t something you have to solve today.  It’s not one of the issues under your command that needs to be dealt with as soon as possible.  This can wait.  Let yourself relax.”

Shiro cracked a smile.  “That’s true.  I should figure that out on my own, huh?”  But before Sam could address the self-deprecating words, Shiro nodded.  “You’re right.  It can wait.  It just feels weird.”

“You can’t afford to take your time on many things,” Sam pointed out, bone dry.  “Maybe take advantage of this one.”

Shiro nodded again, more thoughtfully.  “I’ll think on it.  And I should probably talk to Matt.”

That made Sam smile.  “I should think so.  And if there’s anything my boy is good at, it’s breaking the tension.  If you let him in, he might be able to make it a little easier.”

“Maybe,” Shiro allowed, gaze still distant and introspective.  “I’ll see.  Thank you, Sam.  That can’t be easy for you to talk about.”

“Takashi, I have no problem at all with giving you the talk.  Whatever kind that may be.”

Going pink again, Shiro sputtered.  “It’s not- I do not need that kind of talk, thank you!”

“You sure?  Do we need to go over proper protection?  I’m sure Coran has some  _delightful_  visual aids I might be able to dig up.”

Shiro stood suddenly, nearly pushing Sam over in the process.  “Nope, I’m good, thank you very much, have a good afternoon.  I’m feeling absolutely inspired so I’m going to go talk to Matt now.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Sam replied, grinning as he used the cane to stand.

“Positive,” Shiro replied.  He gave Sam’s shoulder a quick squeeze, then nearly trotted out the door to prevent more potential humiliation.

Heh.  Kids.  They were so easily embarrassed.  Ah, well, he’d grow out of it, no doubt.

In the meantime, Sam would help when he could, and then get his kicks where he dared.


End file.
